


Episode 3.1

by Moorishflower



Category: Misfits
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-22
Updated: 2010-11-22
Packaged: 2017-10-13 08:13:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/135084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moorishflower/pseuds/Moorishflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is how life doesn't work: Simon asks Nathan out for a drink. The implication is that it's something more. Nathan accepts. This is how life does work: Simon asks Nathan out for a drink. The implication could be that it's something more, but Simon panics at the last second. Nathan makes fun of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Episode 3.1

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

 _No,_ Simon wants to say. _No, I’m not, don’t be stupid_ jostles alongside _I would never, you’re not my type, you’re too…_

But he doesn’t say any of it. He closes his eyes, just for a second, and thinks of Alisha and Kelly in the locker room, getting undressed. Kelly’s tattoo. He wonders when she first got it – when she was sixteen? Even younger? Or maybe it’s more recent? An eighteenth birthday present. Maybe. He thinks about how Alisha had smelled – a combination of soft, floral-scented deodorant and perfume. The barest hint of salt-sweat beneath all of that, but she’d left before he could determine whether it was coming from her or from him. Her hair. He wants to touch Alisha’s hair, he _does_ \- she always takes such good care of it. He wants to touch Kelly’s shoulder, the bare roundness of it, her skin smooth. They’re both so beautiful.

And then he thinks about Nathan, and Nathan’s wild curls (wilder than Alisha’s, so obviously not maintained). He thinks about Nathan’s eyes – they’re blue, so unbelievably blue, the kind of color that you sometimes can’t even believe is real. His lips. He’s got such pink lips.

The way he talks, like he doesn’t care what anyone says. Like nothing can hurt him. Like he’s invincible. Simon has spent his entire life being hurt, and learning how to hide in response. He doesn’t know how to be invincible. He doesn’t know how Nathan _does_ it.

But, Simon has found, he’s generally good at pretending.

“And if I was,” he says, and Nathan freezes, staring at him. Those _eyes_. Simon clears his throat; it’s something to do to keep himself from freezing up. “I mean…”

“You _mean_ ,” Nathan says. His tone is scornful. Mocking.

His eyes are clear and terrified.

Simon can feel that great, immutable _something_ creeping up the back of his spine, that feeling that he gets before _it_ happens, and he wants to just kneel down and cover his head and not move for an hour or two.

Nathan is still staring at him.

“Forget it,” Simon says. His voice comes out as a whisper. “Just…”

“Are you buying?”

He stills. “What?”

“I said, are you buying? I mean, in a non-romantic sort of capacity. I’m not into that shit.”

“Neither am I,” Simon says. Hastily. Too hastily. He covers with a quick, “I’ll buy. After what you did today…”

“What I did?”

“Lobbing that rock, I mean.”

“Oh.”

Now they’re staring at each other. Simon swallows; he can feel his heart beating, rabbit-fast, against his ribcage. “I’ll buy,” he repeats, and Nathan nods at him, jerkily.

“Well, as long as it’s you paying for it.”

Nathan’s arm brushes against his as he passes by. Simon’s fingertips are tingling.

“You coming, then? Hard to pay when you aren’t there.”

“Coming,” Simon says. He takes one step after Nathan, and then another.

That huge, bizarre feeling that had been slinking up his spine and towards his head, that desire for quiet, and peace, and invisibility, slowly ebbs away.


End file.
